can find him work, but what about you, Duff? You don’t want to sit behind a desk and count money for the rest of your life.”
“Nothing wrong with money as long as it’s used right. I don’t know about that desk, though. You know me—I’m a hands-on man. I like getting down and gritty with people, working to change lives.”
“Sounds like what we do at Haven. Why are you on the run?”
“Not sure. I have a few things to figure out.” Joshua ran a finger around the neck of the T-shirt. “I’m no social worker, that’s for sure.”
“You’re not Recon anymore, either. I doubt you’ll bust up any al-Qaeda cells in Amarillo. Why not stick around here? We’ve got Mo Ded and his brand of terrorists right outside these doors to keep things interesting. There’s a lot more to Haven than social work, and we could use another man the kids can look up to. I’m starting to think we need a liaison with the refugee community, too. Maybe that could be you.”
“Nah. The social worker at Refugee Hope showed me the error of my well-meaning ways. The things that go into resettling these people—it’s more than one guy can do.”
“Come on, Duff. I know you too well. You’d take on a challenge like that any day.” Sam assessed his friend. “What’s up with you? You’ve done a one-eighty since this morning.”
Joshua focused on a group of youngsters carrying stacks of freshly laundered and folded white T-shirts toward the office. The last thing he wanted to admit was the way Liz had affected him. Five minutes, and she’d had him in overdrive. Not just her looks, either. They had clicked big-time. She knew it, too.
But it wouldn’t work. She was headed to Africa. He was expected in Texas.
“I shouldn’t have come,” he said finally. “This place is messing with my mind.”
“It’s not St. Louis. The war did a number on your brain. If you’re like me, you’ve still got one foot in the sand.”
Joshua recalled his nightmare. “I need to take care of the Rudis and move on.”
“You can’t escape it, man. What else is bothering you?”
“Want the truth?” He chuckled. “ Women —the only way I can think to get my head out of combat mode.”
“Ana’s got friends. Or how about that caseworker? Pastor Stephen said you looked at her like you planned to marry her.”
“ Marry her? Are you kidding me?”
“Like I said, the man is…insightful. Intense might be a better word. So what’s the lady’s name?”
“Liz Wallace. Gorgeous but on her way to some UN job in Africa. All day I’ve either been avoiding imaginary land mines or trying to figure out how to get that woman into my arms. Neither one good. I need to focus on the Rudis—find that missing brother, get Pastor Stephen a job, enroll the kids in school, locate an apartment and get them set up. All without letting myself get tangled in a pretty missionary’s curls.”
“Now there’s an assignment worthy of the Sergeant Duff I met on a dusty base in Iraq.”
“I’d rather hunt terrorists.”
As Sam laughed, Joshua decided it was time to cut the chitchat. He needed to find the little minister and his wife. Sam beat him to the punch.
“Pastor Stephen is in one of the classrooms. Said he wanted to start teaching Bible stories to the children. He’s that way.”
Joshua set off in the direction Sam had indicated. He definitely did not want to marry Liz Wallace—or any other woman. Not soon, anyway. He’d have to set the Rev. Stephen Rudi straight on that point. As well as a few others.
Chapter Four
L iz pulled her car to a stop in front of Haven and gathered up the stack of documents in the passenger seat. A shiver prickled down her spine as she focused on the young man slouched against the wall at the building’s entrance. Compact, taut with gleaming dark muscles, he wore a white T-shirt, baggy jeans and an expression that dared anyone to mess with him.
The task could have been saved for another time, Liz realized, and maybe she should have waited. The streets were dangerous at this hour. Her headache had worsened throughout the day. With her patience stretched to the limit, all she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and sleep.
Please, Lord, let me sleep!
Why did He choose to answer this prayer so rarely? Liz shook her head as she pushed open the car door. Insomnia had become her demon, haunting her days and lying in wait to sabotage her nights. She ached for sleep yet dreaded the moment she would switch off her lamp each night. Her bed had become her worst enemy.
“Good evening.” The young man’s polite greeting surprised Liz so much she stopped walking. He straightened and stepped toward her. “Welcome to Haven, ma’am. I’m Raydell Watson, on door duty here. You’ll want to give me those papers, your purse and anything that might set off our metal detector.”
Belatedly, Liz noted the electronic apparatus just inside the door. Beyond it she spotted a dog. A large German shepherd, ears perked forward, tail raised.
“That’s Duke,” Raydell told her. “He’s our drug canine. He won’t do nothing to you—unless you’re carrying.”
“No. Of course not.” Liz handed over the sheaf of paperwork. “You know, maybe you could just deliver these for me. They go to a man named Joshua Duff. I really don’t need to talk to him.”
“You’ll want to go on in. We like for every visitor to take a look at our place.” Raydell smiled, and now Liz noted the single gold tooth. “We’re real proud of Haven. Just sign our register on my clipboard here.” He glanced at her signature. “Thanks, Ms. Wallace. Now hand over your purse, and I’ll let you through the door.”
With some reluctance, Liz gave the young man her bag. “I work for Refugee Hope.” She felt an odd need to explain. “Sergeant Duff is helping a Pagandan family with the resettlement process.”
“Right through this door,” Raydell said. He bellowed over her, “Visitor, Shauntay!”
As Liz stepped through the metal detector, she saw a young woman motion to the German shepherd. Wearing a white T-shirt and tight-fitting tan slacks, Shauntay gave Raydell a knowing smile as she took the registry. Then she picked up the dog’s leash and led him toward Liz.
“Don’t worry, Ms. Wallace. Duke don’t bite unless we give the command.” She walked the dog around Liz as she spoke. Satisfied, she handed back the purse. “You lookin’ for Uncle Sam or T-Rex?”
Liz frowned. Who were Uncle Sam and T-Rex?
“Actually,” she said, “I need to talk to Joshua Duff. I understand he’s staying at Haven.”
“That big dude? Over there shootin’ hoops.” Shauntay gestured with her chin. “He come in yesterday. Friend of Uncle Sam. They was soldiers together over in Iraq. He movin’ in here.”
“To
